


The Most Secret Diary

by neveralarch



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt: <em>The Doctor finds Jo's very secret diary in which she's written at length about how attractive she finds the Master. </em>The Doctor tries to prevent any sort of romantic entanglements, and some threatening aliens get involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Secret Diary

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Совершенно секретный дневник](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531339) by [Kollega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kollega/pseuds/Kollega)



_–can't stop thinking of the heavy slide of those gloves up my thighs, the way my fingers would tangle in his beard, dragging his mouth down to my–_

The Doctor blushed, and flipped the page. He might be reading Jo's most secret diary, but he wasn't some sort of literary voyeur. He was only curious, and Jo _had_ left the book out in the open. Well, in her coat pocket, but the coat had been abandoned (hung up) in the Doctor's lab, which made it practically his property.

_–would fit my fingers around his belly, my lips around the hinge of his jaw, bite and squeeze until he was crying out my name–_

The Doctor flipped several more pages, until it seemed safe to read on. He was interested in Jo's private opinions, not her... whatever you called this. Jo certainly had an imagination.

_–I know he's evil, but I can't help it if I'm attracted to older men, now can I? Especially older men with bedroom eyes, the kind that you want to sink into (I keep remembering the time he hypnotized me, which was terrible, except what if he had–_

The Doctor closed the book, abruptly. It was wholly inappropriate – both in content and in subject matter. Jo and the Master? No. Girls would have these fantasies, but he would have to subtly point out to Jo that evil masterminds were completely off-limits.

\---

Driving to the next UNIT job seemed like the perfect time to broach the topic. There had been plutonium detected in Ipswich, and the Brigadier had sent the Doctor out to investigate, with his faithful assistant in tow. Jo was humming whatever pop song had caught her fancy this week, and the Doctor cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Bless you," said Jo, absently. "How does the next bit go? There's a staaaar-man, hm hm hm hm hm-"

"Jo," interrupted the Doctor. "I have something very important to talk to you about."

"Yes, Doctor?" Jo turned toward him, and the Doctor flicked his eyes to her and then back to the road.

"Well," said the Doctor. How should he begin? "Jo, do you- are you interested in older men?"

"I suppose," began Jo, uncertainly, and her eyes narrowed, then widened again. The Doctor pulled his own eyes back to the road before he caused an accident. "Doctor, I'm very flattered, but I think of us as friends–"

"Not _me_ , older men," said the Doctor hurriedly. He wasn't _old_. "Just older men in general. Or perhaps you could tell me about your 'type?'"

There was a long pause. The Doctor half-considered stopping Bessie and making a run for it before this could get any more awkward.

"Are you trying to set me up with someone?" asked Jo.

"Quite the opposite," muttered the Doctor. "Don't bother, Jo, I'm sorry–"

"I don't mind!" said Jo, brightly. "As long as Benton didn't put you up to this, or something. My type...” Jo tapped her lip, apparently thinking hard. “I don't like my men to be too tall, I think, and that sort of Mediterranean complexion is gorgeous, frankly-"

The Doctor listened, his hearts sinking. The Master really would be perfect for Jo, if it weren't for that evil mastermind business.

"But of course you want a man with some moral character," suggested the Doctor, as Jo started to delve into the joys of beards.

"Oh, I suppose I must," agreed Jo. She didn't sound particularly invested in morality, though, as evidenced by her next words. "But bad boys can be awfully attractive, Doctor. That sort of suave, dashing criminal you see in novels, for instance."

The Doctor blanched. The Master could be called suave, on his better days, and he was certainly dashing. It was worse than he had thought.

"Oh no," said Jo, watching the Doctor's face. "Too much information?

\---

Jo was obviously a lost cause. The Doctor had to talk to the other half of the equation, as much as it pained him to advise the Master on his love life.

Luckily enough, the Master turned out to be behind the new plutonium problem, and then the Doctor ended up tied to a chair in a laboratory as the Master paced around him.

"How could the Plutocrons be so ungrateful!" demanded the Master. "I gave them everything. They wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me."

"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "Look here, what do you think of Jo?"

"Jo?" The Master looked vague. "Oh, Miss Grant. What do you mean, what do I think of her?"

"As a person," said the Doctor. The Plutocrons roared outside the locked laboratory, slamming their tendrils against the door.

"Moderately clever, very capable, very good at getting out of traps," said the Master. It sounded as if he were reading off a list. The Doctor envisioned the Master's own very secret diary, filled with notes on each of the Doctor's associates. "You have to hypnotize her, rather than tying her up,” continued the Master, “and even that doesn't always work. Why?"

The Doctor sank back into the chair, relieved. The Master talked about Jo as an enemy, an obstacle. He couldn't possibly reciprocate Jo's attraction.

"Nothing," said the Doctor. "Some foolish fancy of Jo's."

"I see," said the Master. His gloved fingers stroked his beard. "You know, she does have a fascinating sense of fashion, I'd forgotten about that. An astounding ability to run in platform heels. And her abdominal muscles-"

"When were you looking at Jo's abdominal muscles?" snapped the Doctor, outraged, and that was when the Plutocrons broke through the door and carried the Master away.

The Doctor tried to chase after them, and then realized that he was still bound to the chair. He struggled for a moment, and the chair fell over.

"Jo is completely off-limits," he muttered, into the floor.

\---

About an hour later, the Master had escaped the Plutocrons, found Jo, wherever she had been hiding, and tied her up in the chair next to the Doctor. He had also set the Doctor's chair upright again, which was admittedly decent of him.

"You'll never get away with this!" said Jo, kicking out as the Master drifted within her range. The Master jumped back, and the Doctor had to stifle a smile. It was good to see that Jo hadn't lost her head to infatuation.

"My dear Miss Grant, I'm already getting away with it." The Master smoothed his jacket. "The Plutocrons may have turned against me, but they'll still destroy this city if the Prime Minister continues to refuse my demands."

"They'll destroy this city even if the PM does accede to your demands," said the Doctor. "They'll destroy it no matter what he gives you."

"How lucky for me that the PM remains uninformed, then," said the Master. His smile was tight and smug, and the Doctor glowered.

"No," said Jo. "You can't possibly-"

The Master drew close again, and this time Jo didn't kick out. "And what would you have me do, Miss Grant? I have no control over the Plutocrons, as the Doctor has so astutely pointed out."

"There must be some way," breathed Jo. "I'd do anything to stop the city from being destroyed."

"Anything?" asked the Master, speculatively.

Jo's eyelashes fluttered. The Master folded his hands behind his back and leant in, smile stretching wider. The Plutocrons roared and banged on the laboratory’s repaired door. The Doctor felt ill.

"That's enough," he said, loudly enough to make Jo and the Master jump. "Just untie me, and we'll get rid of the Plutocrons soon enough."

"That isn't part of the plan, Doctor," said the Master, turning away from Jo. "Weren't you listening?"

"I was listening," said the Doctor, "to the Plutocrons tearing the building apart. If you won't think of anyone else's lives, think of your own."

There was a moment of silence. As silent as it could be, anyway, with the Plutocrons constantly beating on the door, and the walls, and the ceiling. The Doctor thought they might be getting larger as well as more annoyed.

"Oh, very well," said the Master, moving back over to the Doctor. "But I _will_ possess Number Ten."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and rubbed his wrists, once the Master had untied them. "Right," he said. "The first thing we need is sodium chloride."

"Sodium chloride?" asked Jo. The Master bent to untie her as well.

"Salt," he said, voice low and in her ear. "The Plutocrons have a small allergy."

Jo blushed. "I can get salt. There's a shop just down the street."

"Not yet," said the Doctor. "First we need test-tubes and beakers and a burner." He turned to the Master when Jo started to look around. "This is your lab, man. Where are the tools?"

"A moment." The Master walked toward a cabinet in the far corner of the room. The Doctor watched him carefully until he thought he was out of earshot.

"Jo," said the Doctor. "You should know that I read your most secret diary."

"Doctor!" Jo looked very cross. "That's private."

"And I read your... things." The Doctor had no idea how to put this, but he had to try, before it was too late. "Ideas. About the Master."

"Oh," said Jo. She opened her mouth, closed it. Her cheeks were very red.

"I just want to know that you won't pursue it," said the Doctor, urgently. "He's an incredibly evil man, Jo, even if his beard is strangely attractive."

Jo looked at him oddly. "What was that last part, Doctor?"

"It doesn't matter how handsome he is, or how much that Nehru suit flatters him." The Doctor glanced back at the Master, who was returning. "It would never end well."

"You think he's attractive!" accused Jo. "You agree with me, and you're worried that I might get the jump on you and jump him first!"

"Jo, don't be ridiculous," began the Doctor, but then the Master's hand was on his shoulder.

"Arguing, my dears?" The Master looked curious and unsettlingly fond. He had a hand on Jo's shoulder as well. "I've set up a table, Doctor, if you would care to begin work."

"I'd be happy to." The Doctor shook the Master's hand off, and then glared at his hand on Jo's shoulder. It didn't seem to be moving, nor was Jo doing anything to get rid of it. "Jo, would you go and get that salt for us?"

"Fine," huffed Jo. "Don't try anything while I'm gone."

The Master looked between them, a small amount of confusion interrupting his perpetual smugness. "Have I missed something?"

"No," said the Doctor. "Crawl out the window, Jo, I don't think the Plutocrons have made it outside yet."

Jo stomped away to the window. Stomping in platforms sounded far more impressive than normal stomping, and the Doctor and the Master watched her go with appreciation (on the Master's part) and a good deal of wincing (on the Doctor's).

"Are you ready to begin?" asked the Master, once Jo had scrambled out of the window. "I believe we need distilled water, so I've located a sterilized–"

"You are not allowed to seduce Jo," said the Doctor. "Stop immediately."

"Seduce?" The Master raised his eyebrows. "Me?"

"You've been thinking about it," accused the Doctor. "And I happen to know that Jo is currently very susceptible, so–"

"Is she?" said the Master, delighted. "That's not really incentive to desist, is it?"

"Look, you scoundrel," began the Doctor, but the Master leaned in, stopping the Doctor's lips with a gloved finger. The Doctor shivered, tense for some reason he couldn't quite isolate, and the Master smiled.

"Miss Grant is an adult," said the Master, "Who is in full control of her faculties. What reason could you give that would justify you making decisions for her?"

"You're evil," mumbled the Doctor against the Master's finger. The Master removed it.

"What was that?"

"You're evil," said the Doctor. His lips felt strangely cold. "Jo may be able to make her own decisions, but you belong behind bars, not in someone's bed."

"Oh." The Master's face fell. "I thought there might be some other reason."

"After all," continued the Doctor, "we are trying to defeat the homicidal aliens that _you_ summoned, how I could I forget–" He paused. "What other reason would I have?"

"You might have been jealous," said the Master. His voice was strong, but his hands were worrying at each other, the leather of his gloves squeaking.

"Jo and I have a collegial relationship," said the Doctor. "Neither one of us is interested in... romantic entanglement."

The Master muttered something.

"Speak up," said the Doctor.

"I wasn't referring to Miss Grant," muttered the Master, slightly more audibly.

The Doctor stared at him. What could the man mean?

"I had thought," said the Master, and his voice rose as he spoke, until he was almost shouting, "that you might be interested in me! Foolish, I know. I think I will take my–"

The Doctor stopped the Master's mouth with his finger. It was a satisfying gesture, and the Doctor was happy to appropriate it.

"Stop rushing," he said. "Let me think for a moment."

The Master's face was flushing with anger and embarrassment. It was a nice look on him, thought the Doctor. And his hands were clenching and unclenching, squeaking leather reminding the Doctor of Jo's fantasies-

The Doctor decided he needed empirical data. He removed his finger from the Master's lips.

"Yes?" said the Master.

"Hold still, will you?" asked the Doctor, and kissed the Master.

The Master made a surprised sort of squeak and gripped the Doctor's lapels, pulling him closer. That wasn't holding still, but the Doctor thought it was highly acceptable. After a moment, he broke away.

"There may have been some small amount of jealousy," he said.

"Shut up, shut _up_ ," said the Master, and dragged the Doctor back down to another kiss.

Things progressed rather quickly from there, a combination of the Master's evident sexual and/or emotional frustration and the Doctor's own interest in making the man forget about Jo as quickly as possible.

Also his interest in the Master's cock. It was ridiculous to be prurient about these things when one was on one's knees.

The Master whimpered as the Doctor swallowed around his cock, and his fingers tightened in the Doctor's hair. The Doctor unbuttoned his trousers and palmed his own cock. The Plutocrons' banging seemed very distant and unimportant, along with the rattling of a window, feet dropping to the floor–

"I can't believe this!" shouted Jo. "Doctor, how could you?"

The Doctor froze. He couldn't think of anything that could possibly make this look innocent.

"Miss Grant," said the Master, a little strangled. "I'm sorry–"

"Why would you be sorry," grumbled Jo. The Doctor couldn't see her, but her footsteps were drawing nearer. "Everything’s going really well for _you_. I _knew_ the Doctor was jealous."

"You are exceptionally astute," said the Master. His hand loosened a little, freeing the Doctor's scalp from his grasp, and the Doctor looked up to see that the Master was biting his lip. "I hate to be rude," continued the Master, "but we happen to be in the middle of something–"

"I can see that," said Jo. "Maybe we should make you the middle of something."

"I'm not sure I follow," said the Master, and then Jo was kissing him, fingers threading into the Master's beard. The Master squeaked (again, it appeared to be his default reaction to being kissed), and bucked into the Doctor's mouth.

The Doctor swallowed. He couldn't help it, it was that or choke. And then Jo's knee was resting on the Doctor's back as she necked with the Master, and the Doctor was sucking the Master's cock again, and what could have been a very embarrassing circumstance seemed to have become a threesome.

Fine, decided the Doctor. It was the seventies, after all.

The Master jerked and came just as the Plutocrons finally brought the building down with their thrashing. Jo shreiked, and the Doctor swallowed and hoped that they wouldn't be crushed by the ceiling.

\---

Waiting for rescue was agonizing.

"How could you have forgotten about the Plutocrons?" demanded the Master. "This is all your fault, Doctor."

"My fault?" The Doctor glared at what little he could make out of the Master's face in the darkness. "You're the one who brought the damnable things to Earth." The Doctor tried to fold his arms, but between the three of them and the small size of the air pocket there wasn't really room for motion. It was only lucky that they had been so close together when the building collapsed.

"Yes," said the Master. "You distracted me with your seduction, I can't be held responsible."

"At least you got off," said Jo. "All I got was kissing."

"I'm sorry it was so dissatisfying," said the Master, somewhere between sarcastic and hurt.

"Can we stop talking and just wait for UNIT?" asked the Doctor. "You two are using up all of my oxygen."

" _Your_ oxygen," said Jo.

"Fine, _our_ oxygen, which you are _still_ wasting–"

"Enough!" said the Master. "Perhaps some of this was my fault. Miss Grant, I would be delighted to take you to dinner to apologize for these incidents."

"Oh," said Jo. The Doctor could practically hear her smile. "Oh, that would be nice."

"Now hold on," began the Doctor.

"And Doctor," said the Master, "I would also be delighted to take _you_ to dinner to apologize. On a different night. I think future _ménage à trois_ would end in similar disaster."

"I agree," said the Doctor, mollified. "That sounds... sensible."

"Tuesday night?" asked the Master.

"I'll need to check my schedule," said the Doctor, considering.

"Tuesday's fine for me!" said Jo.

"I think I hear voices," said Benton, muffled by building remnants. "Hello! Is someone down there?"

"It's us!" shouted Jo. "We need to be rescued!"

"Not by UNIT," said the Master.

"I'd advise you to take whatever rescuing you can get," said the Doctor. "Unless you want to stay here forever." He could see the Master's scowl, now, as Benton lifted away some rubble and light shone down on their faces.

"Hello, Doctor, Jo," said Benton. "And here's the Master!"

The Master brushed off a sleeve, kicking rubble away. "Yes, here I am, Sergeant Benton."

"Are the Plutocrons contained?" asked the Doctor.

"Yes, Sir," said Benton. "Turns out they melt if you pour salt on– Hey! Stop!"

The Master was legging it, slipping and sliding across the remnants of the destroyed building. Benton made to gave chase, but he tripped over the Doctor's leg, which was somehow in his way instead of still buried in rubble.

"I'm terribly sorry, Benton, how careless of me," said the Doctor. "Oh dear, he's escaped."

Benton struggled back up and gamely ran in the direction the Master had run off in without even a word of reproach. The Doctor almost felt sorry for him.

"You did that on purpose," said Jo. She stood up, levering herself out of the former air pocket.

"Well," said the Doctor. "I'd hate for the Master to miss his dinner dates because of incarceration. Perhaps he'll focus on balancing between us for a moment, rather than diabolical schemes."

"We can only hope," said Jo, and offered the Doctor her hand as he struggled to stand. They smiled at each other, briefly.

“I’ll never be jealous again,” said the Doctor.

“Yes you will,” said Jo, shaking her head. “But I do appreciate the gesture!”

And they all lived happily ever after (or for a reasonable number of years), except for the time the Master got the Doctor and Jo’s dates mixed up and also brought some Cybermen to Earth. But that was resolved with minimal casualties.


End file.
